


Like a Vicious Dove

by BoldlyGoingNowhereFast



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Hux, Emperor Hux, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6450175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoldlyGoingNowhereFast/pseuds/BoldlyGoingNowhereFast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been a year since Hux destroyed Snoke and took the galaxy for his own, a year since Kylo Ren pledged his service to the new emperor. When Hux gets kidnapped, he trusts his knight to rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Vicious Dove

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try my hand at an Emperor Hux fic, so here it is.

The metal of a crown didn’t warm easily, not even after a full day of sitting across his brow, a cool and heavy weight that reminded Hux of everything he had labored to achieve, that everything he had was a product of his own hard work and conviction. This particular crown had been forged from the metal Supreme Leader Snoke had worn on his neck and wrists. Hux, not one for copious adornment, had decided a simple crown suited him just fine. It was plain gold with the emblem of the first order set into it in rubies, and it was polished to a bright shine against the red of his hair.

 His clothing was made of the finest silks and velvets in rich colors of blood red, royal purple, and black. He had always liked the uniform he wore as a general, but he found he liked the thick capes and embroidered surcoats even more. Growing up, people had told him he looked aristocratic and though Hux had never really known what they meant, dressed to his neck in finery, Hux finally agreed with them. 

Hux knew, as emperor of the galaxy, his subjects expected some pomp and circumstance from him, and he was willing to oblige. Hux knew he looked good in the garments of a king and he knew he played the role well. Despite having to kill his predecessor, Hux was born to rule, and the galaxy had never been better off than with Hux as its leader.

Hux sat on his throne of black polished stone set into a raised dais from which he could look down on his audience, gloved hands resting on the wide armrests, chin tilted up just enough that he was looking down his straight nose at the speaker.

“But your highness, raising the tax on the trade routes to the outer rim only threatens your relationship with the traders from those planets who have always been good sources of income under the normal tax rates.”

Hux had established himself as a firm ruler who would listen to his subjects but gave no unnecessary leeway. If the galaxy was to run like a well-oiled machine, each of the cogs needed to be in perfect working order. On the matter of taxes, Hux would not budge.

“Raising the taxes is necessary. The traders will adjust, and the First Order will benefit. You are dismissed, Mister Rymin.”

Hux had spent hours now hearing grievances from his subjects in the large throne room on the highest level of the royal palace on Coruscant, the planet the First Order had taken as its capital. Hux had helped to design the throne room to his specific tastes; the walls were made mostly of transparisteel which offered a clear view of the sprawling metropolis around them and let in plenty of light without the danger of using plain glass. Like most traditional throne rooms, the throne was set into the far end of the room at the end of a long stone path flanked by tall pillars of the same dark stone as the throne and the flooring, hung with the deep red banners of the First Order. If not for natural light let in through the large windows, the room would be dark and menacing.

Hux’s favorite touch was the skylight above the throne, installed per his specific request. At the right time of day, the sun would shine down through the skylight, illuminating the throne and warming Hux’s head; Hux knew what his hair looked like in the sunlight, and with a crown on his head he was painted in the brushstrokes of a god.

The last visitor of the day’s footsteps echoed across the stone, and then Hux was alone for a blessed moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off a headache and wondering if he would ever hear the end of complaints about taxes. Hux knew it wasn’t likely, but that was the cost of making any important decision. There would always be complaints, regardless of how efficient the government was.

Hux was about to rise from the throne and retire to his rooms when there were more footsteps on marble. Looking up, he saw the court messenger, a short balding man with a red face and a nervous cough.

“Emperor Hux, sir, you have an interstellar transmission from the Ileenium system, from Lord Ren.”

Hux blinked, surprised. Ren wasn’t supposed to make contact for at least a week. Ren was on a personal mission to an outer rim planet where there had been rumors of a sighting of Leia Organa. Ren was headed there with a convoy of four other knights to make sure those rumors were false and to punish whoever it was that was spreading the rumors. Hux knew that part of Ren wanted the rumors to be true, even if that meant he would have to bring her in as a prisoner of the First Order, but Hux wouldn’t say anything about it. He knew the former general of the Resistance was a sore spot for Ren, and he wasn’t one to cause conflict where none was needed.

“Yes, what does he have to say?”

“He says their search has proven fruitless and that they will be back by nightfall.”

That did not bode well for Ren’s mood. He had been certain that there would be a use for his search, if not for finding Organa, then for finding people who still believed in her and her ideals. Hux wondered what it was that had turned Ren on his heels so quickly.

“Thank you, Wyn.”

Wyn bowed low and hurried out of the hall, coattails of the deep red royal court uniform fluttering behind him.

Hux’s plans for a calm evening of signing documents were dashed, he knew that much. Ren would want to update him on his mission, and he would likely spend at least an hour complaining about the waste of time and his surety that there were still rebels out there somewhere. Hux usually humored him, but the thudding of a headache behind his eyes told him that his patience would be much thinner than usual.

Hux took his private turbolift down to the royal rooms, a whole floor of the skyscraper that was filled with floor-to-ceiling transparisteel and clean lines with little drapery and decor. Hux appreciated the royal robes and colors for his public presence, but appreciated more utility and minimalism in his personal life and despite being Emperor of the galaxy, lived a life less lavish than a good number of the upper class on Coruscant. Hux did not believe he should live better than all of his subjects, not when their quality of life was his responsibility.

Hux stepped into the large walk-in closet off his bedroom and began the work of divesting himself of the heavy court-wear until he was left in a simple grey tunic, belted loosely at the waist by a strip of grey fabric, and a pair of thick leggings that fit under his boots. The crown he set down on its velvet cushion and shut the transparisteel case until it clicked locked.

Hux did like wearing the finery, but it was almost as nice taking it off after a long day.

Hux was pouring over his datapad while eating a meal of a light stew in his study and staring out across the city, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon sliced through by tall buildings that shot up like swords into the bloodied sky, when his comm buzzed.

“Hux,” he answered.

“Your highness, the Knights of Ren have returned, and Lord Ren requests audience with you.”

Hux knew this was going to happen. “Send him in. Thank you, Wyn.”

Hux stood, brushing imaginary lint off of his leggings and made his way to the front entrance. Hux’s quarters were one of the most secure places on Coruscant, which meant that each person who entered his quarters had to be biometrically verified as well as let in by Hux’s personal guards.

Once the door was finally unlocked, the sound of the airlock releasing filled the room, and then Kylo Ren was standing in his entrance hall, fuming.

When they had begun forming the plan to destroy Snoke together, Hux and Ren had formed a truce, knowing that if there were any rifts between them they would both die. Snoke was ruthless, and if they were to usurp him, they had to be working like a fine-tuned machine. For Hux, that was no problem. It was a simple task for him to get rid of his personal grievances toward Ren in the name of the First Order and the galaxy, despite how infuriating Ren could be.

They spent night upon night in Hux’s quarters on the _Finalizer_ that was headed to Snoke’s fortress, making sure their plan watertight. Part of this involved Hux learning how to block Force users from his thoughts. If Snoke got wind of their plan through Hux’s mind, they were both doomed. Hux grew to dread the hours of time he spent trying to keep Ren out of his head, until finally he was able to successfully push Ren away each time. Ren had never hesitated to tell him just how useless with the Force he was, but Hux took pride in the ability he cultivated through hard work.

Ren’s wide smile after he had stumbled back, pushed away from Hux by nothing more than Hux’s willpower, was worth all the work Hux had gone through to get to that point.

After everything, when the two of them were standing in the rubble of Snoke’s citadel sharing harsh breaths in the frigid air, they made eye contact and then Ren was pulling Hux into a rough hug that pushed the air from his lungs and pressed him against thick robes and damp hair.

In the rush of victory, Hux breathed a laugh into Ren’s neck and wrapped his arms around his wide shoulders, damp from sweat and both his blood and the blood of those they had defeated.

“Congratulations, Emperor Hux,” Ren murmured into his ear, and Hux closed his eyes.

The Kylo Ren that was standing in Hux’s entrance hall was not smiling in victory and was not pulling Hux into a hug. His hair was ruffled and his expression was that of a person who either smelled something foul or who was suffering a migraine.

“Would you like a drink, Ren?”

Ren’s gaze traveled over Hux’s form, pausing on his hair which had been brushed out and was hanging over his forehead instead of parted carefully. “Please.”

Hux led Ren into the sitting room, pulling two glasses from behind the bar on the far side of the room.

“Pick you poison,” Hux said, watching Ren’s back where he was staring through the window out at the sweeping city lights that stretched out to the horizon, standing out like the stars that the light pollution prevented anyone from seeing.

Ren glanced back over his shoulder. “Whatever you’re having.”

Hux suppressed a sigh and poured them both a healthy glass of scotch, not wanting to waste his expensive wine on a man who was just drinking it for the buzz and not the flavor.

Hux rarely shared his expensive wine with Ren. Ren was not a true appreciator of fine alcohol, and while Hux enjoyed drinking with Ren, he didn’t appreciate wasting the quality of an expensive drink.

Hux brought him his glass, watching as Ren took it and threw back a large swig.

“Do you want to talk?” Hux asked, moving to sit in his armchair in the seating area by the large windows.

With Ren, asking after his mood was usually more useful than trying to figure it out, and Hux didn’t have the patience for the spat that would result from getting it wrong.

Ren settled in the chair across from Hux, stretching his long legs in front of him. “The tips about Leia Organa were nothing more than rumors spread by the bored and starry-eyed. I knew within a moment of being close to that planet that there was nothing there.”

Hux nodded. “We knew it was possible.” The scotch was smooth on his tongue and warmed his throat and chest. Hux was always cold, and because of this his rooms were always set to a higher temperature than the standard setting of the rest of the huge building. Even then, he always carried a chill.

“I do not appreciate wasting time.”

Hux shook his head. “It wasn’t a waste of time. You got a tip, you investigated, and the Ileenium system was ruled out. I’ve been meaning to send Stormtroopers to flush the system of rebels.”

“When we crushed the Rebellion, we leveled those planets. The only beings left there are farmers and hermits, and I can assure you that their minds are nothing more than boring.”

“And you ensured nothing has popped up there that shouldn’t. It is your job, Ren, to keep the First Order safe.”

Ren’s mouth twisted. “Technically, we decided my job was to keep _you_ safe.”

It had never been spoken in words, but it was true. Both of them knew that without the Force, Hux could be stopped by anyone wielding a lightsaber and mind tricks, so Ren had volunteered to be Hux’s right-hand man, in exchange for a voice in the running of the galaxy. Hux used Ren as a sort of advisor-bodyguard-messenger. Ren liked the freedom, and Hux liked the safety and power.

“Rebels are not conducive to my safety.”

Ren took another large swig of his drink, and Hux was glad he hadn’t given Ren his wine. “Even with her supposedly gone, I am still influenced by Leia Organa. I am still weak and pathetic.”

“Ren, did you ever have the privilege of meeting my father while he was alive?”

Ren seemed interested, steered away from his steady path into self-loathing. “No, I can’t say I did. I know his accomplishments, of course.”

“He was an ass,” Hux said flatly. “He was brilliant and had a great vision for this galaxy, but he was a horrible father.” Hux pulled down the collar of his tunic, exposing his collarbone and part of the white scar that ran from his right shoulder down his chest.

Ren’s brown eyes widened fractionally and he leaned forward in his seat, gaze fixed on the skin Hux had revealed. “Did he give that to you?”

Hux nodded. “He was giving me a swordsmanship lesson, and I was not doing as well as he thought I should be doing. We had forgone protective gear because he said it would motivate me to work harder. Obviously it wasn’t enough.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

Ren’s mouth twisted downward.

“So if you’re ever worried you’re the only one still influenced by your parents, know that you’re not. Even being on the same side as my father wasn’t enough for him. I was never enough for him, and I still wonder if I could have changed that somehow.”

Hux released the fabric at his collar, hiding the scar again and watching as Ren’s eyes lingered there. He felt exposed, but he had stopped worrying that Ren would see his weaknesses when they had decided to destroy Snoke together. He knew now that opening up to Ren often encouraged loyalty and transparency in return.

Hux could see that he was starting to form an attachment to Ren, and it worried him. As Emperor to the galaxy, such attachments were dangerous, could cloud his judgement and weaken his hand. It was hard, though, when Ren watched him with eyes filled with emotion and a mouth that was soft for the harsh words it released. From the first time Hux had seen Ren’s face, he knew why the Lord of the Knights of Ren had worn a mask.

“I can understand your need to make sure Leia Organa is gone, and since it overlaps with my need to eradicate all dissenters, I give you full permission to chase whatever leads seem promising,” Hux said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

“You are confident in your ability to remain safe while I am gone.”

“These windows are made of transparisteel, the locks are highly advanced biometric technology, the whole building is under twenty-four hour surveillance by only my most trusted security. You are not my only line of protection, Ren.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “I am the only line of protection _I_ trust.”

Hux resisted rolling his eyes, a childish impulse brought out only by Ren. “I don’t take unnecessary risks, Ren, I assure you. I will be well protected while you are gone. As long as I am here, of course. Leaving the planet, I would much appreciate your company.”

Ren’s quarters were on the floor below Hux’s, connected by a protected lift that only went between the two floors. Ren’s quarters were just as secure as Hux’s own, though Ren claimed he didn’t need them to be. Hux had told him if he wanted to live on the floor under Hux’s, he would have the same level of security.

Hux’s comm buzzed. “Hux.” Old military habits often made him nearly slip into old jargon, but he always managed to stop himself.

“Your highness, there has been a confirmation on the time of the trials next month. They need your verification.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Hux pocketed his comm and stood. “Duty calls. This could take a while.” Ren didn’t look motivated to move. “Feel free to stay here. Don’t drink all my alcohol, or I’ll refuse to share again.”

Ren gave him a small smirk. “Enjoy signing your name over and over again.”

Hux quickly dressed in his lighter royal wear, running a comb through his hair to re-part it and placing the crown onto his brow. Even meeting no one but his advisors, he had to look his best. He would not allow them to see anything else.

Only Ren was ever allowed to see anything else.

 

Hux’s days were filled with appearances, meetings, trials, and many other frivolous things required of a public figure. As a General, Hux hadn’t needed to be glamorous and charismatic for his troops to follow him; they were trained to do such, and any theatrics were only an addition. To please the Galaxy, to make people trust him and give him their support, Hux needed to be not only a great leader, but a figure people could relate to. He needed to mingle, to give moving speeches, to be beautiful and smart and devoted to the cause. Hux could be all of these things, but it required great effort. At the end of every day he often came home with a tension headache and lines in his skin that one gets from wearing tight fabric for extended periods of time, he would have few hours for sporadic sleep, and then he would be up again for his next round of meetings, appearances, and speeches.

When Ren was around, he often accompanied Hux to these appearances, standing silent and devoted to his Emperor, hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber in an obvious threat to anyone thinking to harm Hux. Ren, too, had been given a new wardrobe. Gone were the tattered and coarse fabrics, and in their place were clean black robes that fit him snugly and allowed for full range of motion. He cut a smart figure in a cape that was fastened at the base of his throat by a shining silver clasp in the shape of the First Order insignia.

Ren was always the one to complain.

“I don’t know how you can listen to these people and not want to strangle them,” Ren had said one of their regular evenings in Hux’s sitting room. Hux appreciated these times where he could leave his crown off and loosen his posture and his lips.

“It’s about control,” Hux responded, running a hand through his hair and sending it into even wilder disarray. “Of course I dislike talking to them. I just don’t show it.”

“They try to butter you up with lies and flattery so you will pass their laws or donate to their cause, and you have to smile and pretend you care about what they’re saying. I cannot imagine.”

Hux offered Ren a shrug. “It comes with the job, and we both worked hard enough to get it that suffering through conversation with difficult people is nothing.”

Ren’s gaze traveled across Hux’s face, assessing his honesty, finally breaking into a smirk. “You amaze me.”

Hux still wondered what he meant.

 

Ren sat in the armchair in the corner of Hux’s room, legs crossed casually and watched as Hux packed his bags for his trip to the Outer Rim. Hux was scheduled for a series of appearances and speeches in three systems, and he would be away from Coruscant for at least two weeks.  It was important that Hux present a powerful figure that people could follow, and having Ren by his side would only help him.

“Why don’t you just get servants to do your packing?” Ren asked, eying him lazily.

“Is that what you did?” Hux asked, tucking a stack of tunics into his bag.

“Yes. Of course, I’m not entirely responsible for my wardrobe, so I let them handle it.”

“When you’re responsible for your own wardrobe, you end up in rags and melodramatic masks.”

Ren’s mouth twisted downward. “And when you’re responsible for your wardrobe, you look like a pompous ass.” Hux stared at him as Ren paused. “My mistake. You always look like a pompous ass.”

“If you were anyone else, you’d be arrested for treason, saying things like that.”

Ren gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I’m not anyone else, though, am I?”

“I’m not one to go back on my word, and you have my word.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “You always make casual conversations so serious. You don’t have to proclaim your commitment to me every time we talk.”

Hux turned back to his packing. “And you turn every conversation into a joke or a tease. It’s tiresome.”

Both Hux’s and Ren’s comms buzzed at the same time.

“Your highness, we intercepted audio transmission that you’re going to want to hear.”

Ren’s message was the same.

They arrived at the security office together, a set of rooms three floors down from Hux’s living space and filled to the brim with computers and data screens, receiving information from all around the planet and other core planets. Ren often sat in front of the main console and monitored the incoming information. Hux told him that the head of security would call him with anything important, but Ren proclaimed he didn’t trust the man with Hux’s security.

The head of security was waiting for them by the entrance to the security offices. “What do you have for me, Yumin?”

“Something interesting, Your Highness.”

Yumin led them to a bank of data screens, thumbing through windows of information. “We were intercepting signals from around the old Imperial trade route, and we picked up this transmission from Daxan Beta.”

He tapped the screen, and a grainy audio started playing.

_“Code PM16524, I repeat code PM16524.”_

The audio cut out with a buzz of static.

“The number of digits corresponds with the standard numeric of dates, and—”

“It’s Leia Organa’s birthdate,” Ren stated, and when Hux glanced at him, his eyes were dark and focused.

“Why would a rebel group use her birthdate as a code?” Hux asked, clasping his hands behind his back. “That seems clumsy even for them.”

“What sort of transmission were they using?” Ren asked.

Yumin clicked through a few screens. “It was encrypted and outdated, which took us longer to crack. Luckily, we still have some of the old equipment from the days of the old Rebel Alliance.”

“They couldn’t have assumed we wouldn’t be able to crack their encryption, and Organa’s birthdate is public knowledge.” Hux stared at the screen as if the lines of code would give him answers.

“They knew I would hear this,” Ren stated. “They knew I would know the date.”

Hux looked at him sharply. “Your parentage is not common knowledge. That would imply we’re working with someone close to the Rebellion under Organa’s leadership, which would make this situation even stickier for us.”

Ren nodded. “And it would imply that this transmission is a trap set specifically for me.”

“Whoever is responsible for the transmission committed treason, one way or another. It could be a trap or it could be a conspirator.” Hux turned back to Yumin. “I want a squad of police sent to that location immediately to find the source of the transmission and arrest those responsible.”

“Yes sir.”

“I must go with them,” Ren said.

Hux knew it was coming, but that didn’t make him any less irritated. “Ren, now is the worst time for this. I’m about to make appearances for a collection of backwater planets and having a knight is imperative. And there is very little chance that transmission will lead to anything.”

Ren shook his head. “You have good security, Hux, and we have a deal.”

Hux gave a gesture of dismissal to Yumin and the man bowed once before leaving them.

“The deal, Ren, is that you get your freedom any time I do not need you, and at this moment, I need you. I do not ask much of you and you know that.”

“You’re the most powerful man in the galaxy, Hux. You’ve got hundreds of thousands of troops and the best weaponry. You do not need me. And you said so yourself. When it comes to locating Leia Organa, I am free to go on any mission I see fit.”

“So you’ll walk into what is probably a trap without blinking an eye, at a time when I need you most.”

Ren stepped closer, so his height advantage was evident, staring down at Hux with a dark expression. “I will do whatever it takes to find Leia Organa and destroy her.”

“Again, you are letting your emotions get in the way of duty, Ren.”

Ren’s expression was flat and cold in a way Hux hadn’t seen directed at him since before Snoke’s death.

“You forget that you would not be wearing that crown on your head without my help,” he hissed. “You forget that any allegiance I have to you is of my own volition, and if I wanted to walk away at this moment, you could not stop me.”

Hux straightened his back and allowed his face to clear of emotion, knowing this was not a fight he would win. “If that is what you want, Ren, so be it. Chase the ghosts of your past and risk the stability of the First Order. I do not care.”

Hux turned on his heel and strode out of security, boiling on the inside but unwilling to show it. He would not allow Ren to see the influence he had over Hux.

“Sir?” Yumin asked, at the front entrance.

“Lord Ren will accompany you on your mission to Daxan Beta. I want you to rearrange my personal security detail. Double it and make sure it’s airtight. I do not want to take unnecessary risks. Find Colonel Phasma. I want her beside me the whole trip.”

Yumin nodded. “Yes sir.”

Hux was finishing his arrangements for his departure the next morning when the alert came in: Ren and a squad of troopers had just exited the system, headed toward Daxan Beta where it was unlikely they would find anything. Hux shook his head as he signed off on the plans for his own security detail, hoping that Ren’s dalliance was worth it. It was not likely Ren would admit to a mistake, so Hux didn’t hold out hope that Ren would see this as a shortcoming.

Hux couldn’t help but smirk at the first planet scheduled on his list of appearances. Tatooine, a desert planet full of outpost traders and farmers, the childhood home of Luke Skywalker. Hux wondered what Ren’s reaction would have been at seeing the name on their schedule.

Perhaps having Ren otherwise occupied during this part of his trip was a blessing. Hux liked to think that, anyway.

 

Tatooine was covered in sand, and its people were covered in dirt.  They were a reminder of where Hux had come from, what the First Order had saved him from. He was no better than these people, and for that reason, he would share with them his dreams for the galaxy.

Hux was set to make his speech in the Mos Espa Grand Arena, a place that hadn’t been used since Hux had taken control of the galaxy, but had been cleaned up in preparation for his arrival. Hux had outlawed slavery and sent troopers to rid the city of the huge criminal population that had run it for years. Hux knew going after gangs was a good way to garner hatred, but there was no way such scum would thrive under his rule.

Mos Espa was now a place where farmers and traders intermingled with the off-worlders. It was safer, cleaner, and perhaps not as wealthy as it had been, but much more orderly. Hux was pleased with his work.

A few hours before his speech, his group of advisors and security stood in the hotel they had been given for the day, in one of the conference rooms, going over the plan now that they had seen the city and the arena.

“The dais constructed for you to speak from is as secure as it could be made,” Phasma said, pointing to the diagram that was projected on the wall. With her advancing in rank and her new position under Hux, she rarely wore the mask. Her blonde hair was cut short and her makeup was always perfect. Hux often wondered how she did it. “If we station guards here, here, and here, we will be able to see any threats in advance.”

Hux nodded, fingers resting on his chin as he stared at the diagram and tried to put any thoughts of how easier this would have been with Ren out of his mind.

A half hour before his speech, the arena was full-to-brimming with people native to Tatooine and off-worlders who had come to Tatooine just to hear Hux speak. All of them had been screened for weapons before they came into the arena using high-powered metal detectors, but that didn’t eliminate the possible threat of standing in front of so many people. Hux had his own blaster attached to his hip, just visible beneath his cape.

There were banners all around the city emblazoned with the First Order emblem, and there were posters announcing his speech plastered all over the city. The planet was ready to hear what Hux had to say, and Hux was ready to deliver. He was good at speeches, after all.

His crown was always polished to perfection, but today it had been polished even more carefully, and his black robes were pressed and flawless. His clothing of choice today was all black with touches of gold at wrists and on his boots and belt. He had disliked the idea at first, but one of the men responsible for helping to assemble his wardrobe had suggested a layer of makeup. A coat of concealer, a touch of eyeshadow, and a little contouring later, and Hux looked like the flawless, beautiful leader of a galaxy that loved him.

Stepping out onto the dais in front of thousands of people cheering and waving red flags and banners, Hux felt a wash of pride at what he had accomplished. Even the people who lived this far away from the center of the galaxy loved him.

“People of Tatooine and beyond, thank you for your hospitality and the chance to stand in front of you and speak about my dreams for this galaxy.”

Hux had written his speeches to each planet ahead of time, of course, and knew exactly how to deliver them. It felt as though he was born to do this. The power he felt flowed through his blood and strengthened his voice, and he couldn’t help tilting his chin up and letting the sunlight glint against the metal of his crown and set his hair on fire.

This speech didn’t end with the explosion of a system of planets, but it did end with an explosion of applause, and that was nearly as rewarding. Later, Phasma told him that he had looked ethereal standing against the brown of sand and dust, speaking of order and power and a galaxy united.

The next three speeches he made in his tour of Outer Rim planets went close to the same. His advisors kept an eye on public opinion through transmissions and news outlets and saw that he was garnering more and more support. They broadcasted his speeches anywhere they could, like they had with his coronation and tours of the core planets, to make sure the most people saw them. Hux was beginning to think he just might end up the most successful leader of the galaxy in known history.

The very last planet he was scheduled to visit was a small mining planet by the name of Apatros whose population consisted entirely of miners and off-world traders. The planet had huge importance in the galaxy market, as it was one of the only producers of cortosis and was no longer under the control of the Outer Rim Oreworks Company. This meant the small planet controlled its own business and was susceptible to the changing current in opinion of its population.

Phasma took him through the same security rundown, warning him that this planet was home to a large faction of miners who were known to cause disruptions and would offend easily. Hux recalled there being a skirmish amongst these miners in the past and not being able to do much about it because of the importance of the material they mined. Hux would have completely overrun this planet with Stormtroopers had he the time to worry about such a small planet, but now he figured was the time to garner their support.

So, Hux was to keep on high alert while he was delivering his speech. The only place large enough for a speech of that size was in one of the biggest caverns that was once used as a mine, but now was a stadium for political rallies and entertainment.

“If anything strange happens, I will be standing next to you on the stage and will get you out of the cavern as quickly as possible. I don’t like it, but there are no other suitable places to give this speech.” Phasma stood with her arms crossed, face grim. “I’m going to trust that you’re well aware of when you’re in danger or not.”

Hux was not thrilled by the increased possibility of danger, but this speech was important enough to risk it.

The cave was huge, high enough that the dark recess of the ceiling dissolved any light that approached it. The fluorescent-white put everything in bright relief, throwing long shadows on the rocks and turning people into gaunt creatures that stared up at Hux on the stage with unreadable expressions.

Hux was undeterred. This speech was crafted specifically for these people, and Hux was a master of words and delivery.

He was just getting to the climax of his speech, his voice echoing across the cavern, when the lights flickered and died, and suddenly they were plunged into inky blackness.

Hux first registered the shouts of surprise, and the flickering of glowrods miners always carried with them. The next thing he registered was the sound of a scuffle coming from where Phasma had been standing.

“Sir, code red!” came her muffled voice, and Hux drew his blaster.

This power outage was not an accident.

He couldn’t see anything in the swath of darkness around him, twisting around with his blaster held in front of him, just waiting for the attack that was sure to come.

He was not able to stop the sharp prick that stung his neck. He swung around with his arm and his elbow landed in the soft flesh of someone’s stomach, eliciting a grunt from his invisible assailant. Another set of hands was on him in the next moment, and his world began to spin as whatever had been injected into his neck began to take effect. He was dragged off in the darkness with nothing but his heavy breathing and the loud murmur of the population of Apatros to accompany him.

 

Hux awoke to a pounding headache and a mouth dry enough that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. His body ached.

He opened his eyes and took in the room around him, four square walls of smooth metal with a door set into the far wall. There was a bucket in the corner that Hux didn’t want to think about. There was nothing else in the room, and the lighting was harsh against his aching eyes.

He sat up against the wall, assessing his own state. He touched his forehead to check for injury and felt the smooth skin where his crown should have been and then sifted his fingers through his hair to check for wounds or bumps. He seemed to be uninjured other than the aching of his muscles and the pounding in his skull.

His captors had stripped him down to his undershirt and pants which left him little to protect against the chill of the room and of the metal against his skin.

After a few moments where he settled into consciousness, Hux realized the low-frequency humming he had attributed to his headache was the sound of an engine. His prison was on a ship headed god knows where.

He wondered if his captors had been the masterminds behind the transmission intercepted by his security. That implied they either had links to Leia Organa or had somehow gotten sensitive information about Kylo Ren.

Hux was awake and overthinking for what felt like hours before the door opened and a man entered. He was short and somewhat stocky and there was a blaster strapped to his hip. He had the kind of rugged tan that came from hard labor and a rough life.

“Emperor Hux. So nice to finally meet you in the flesh. My name is Briggs.”

Hux organized his features into a look of disdain and remained silent.

“You were a tricky one to get ahold of, you know, but my men and me, we’re persistent.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and gave Hux a filthy smirk through the scruffy beard on his face. “We got lucky, finding out that you were taking a trip out of your safety bubble, and even better that you decided Apatros was a good place to visit.”

Hux allowed his upper lip to curl.

“Silent treatment, huh? Well, it’s a good thing we’re not trying to get information out of you. Not when it’ll be so much easier to get rid of you and that Kylo Ren.”

Hux’s skin crawled. “You are a fool for thinking Kylo Ren will not destroy you.”

“Ah, you do speak! Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we? I’ve got my money on Kylo dropping everything to come get you, and we’ll be ready for him when he does. We just have to get you looking battered and helpless so we get the best effect.”

“Was it you who sent that transmission?” Hux asked. The man was already talking, perhaps he would continue to give Hux information.

“Is that why Ren left? Well, it was nothing but good timing. We knew Kylo Ren went on solo missions, we were just waiting for the right time and place to get you alone. The two of you together are a more difficult target to hit.”

“So, are you going to hit me, scum?”

“Well, _I’m_ not. My friend would be happy to, though.”  

After that fairly heavy-handed threat, the man left the room, leaving nothing but the loud echo of the creaky metal door sliding shut. Hux rubbed a hand over his forehead and adjusted on the floor in an attempt to get pressure off of his tailbone. He should be grateful now for being relatively unharmed because it seemed that would not last for much longer. Their goal was to hurt him and use that to bait Kylo Ren.

Kylo Ren, who had made it clear that his priorities were not with Hux. Perhaps Ren would not come at all and Hux would be killed here. Phasma knew what to do should Hux be compromised, but it was something Hux didn’t like to envision so early on in his reign.

Hux was just beginning to fall into a light doze against the metal wall when the door opened again, and this time a much larger, bulkier man stepped through. He was just the sort of brute a person like Briggs would have as his muscle. He was a humanoid species with a shaved head and arms that looked like he could use to snap Hux in half.

“I presume you’re the one who is going to beat me.”

“Hello, Emperor Hux. I’m Yaxley. You can’t be surprised that this has happened, taking over the galaxy and turning it into a dictatorship like you have. Briggs, our team, and I would like to see this galaxy cleaned of your vile leadership.”

So he wasn’t just muscle. He was muscle with opinions.

“You will not get away with this,” Hux said. “There are already men out looking for me, and when they find you, the punishment will not be light.”

“I think the chance to save the galaxy is well worth the risk of punishment.”

“It’s your life,” Hux responded. “I’m sure you have a family out there that would be quite sad to see you punished by the First Order.”

Yaxley shrugged. “I bet you’d like to know about my family. You’d try to use them against me. Well, don’t worry, Hux, they know me well enough to know I gotta do what I gotta do.”

With a calm expression on his face, Yaxley leaned down to eye level of Hux, gave him a good second of eye contact, and then backhanded him across the face.

Hux’s head snapped sideways with the sharp blow, left with a smarting cheek and the urge to scowl.  

He turned his face back to front, and Yaxley hit him across the opposite side of his face. Hux was accustomed to pain. After all, he had gone through the rigorous training of the First Order, notorious for its harsh punishments and terrible assessments. One didn’t get to the top without knowing what pain felt like.

On the third hit Hux tasted blood, and by the fifth, it was dripping down his chin.

Already suffering from a headache caused by the drug he had been knocked out with hours earlier, the blows to the head made him dizzy and disoriented, like he was seasick and hungover all at once.

Hux didn’t know how long the beating lasted. After a while, he drifted into a haze of pain that allowed his mind to wander. He had plans in place if something like this were to happen, but trusting his military to follow the rules with both he and Ren gone was another thing entirely. If things went to plan, the military would continue to run his government without him and if Hux couldn’t be located within six months, they would hold an election among Hux’s chosen council and find a new Emperor who was sure to run the galaxy much the same way Hux had.

Hux was hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. He trusted Phasma and her team, and Ren wasn’t a lost cause just yet.

He was brought back to the present by a harsh kick to his rips that jarred a grunt from his throat and sent him toppling sideways onto the harsh metal flooring.

“You used to being beaten up, Hux?”

Hux glared up at the form towering over him but didn’t reward him with a response.

He received another kick in the ribs, but this time he only let out a low hiss of air.

“I bet you were bullied as a kid, weren’t you? Skinny little redhead who was pushed around now pushing around the entire galaxy. It’s almost poetic.”

Hux spat the blood in his mouth out on the metal flooring. “You are operating under the impression that you’re the first to say this to me. You are mistaken in thinking that it is original or clever.”

Yaxley delivered an undercut to Hux’s chin and Hux went out like a light.

 

Hux had no idea how many days it had been since the beatings had started, but he felt as though more of his skin was bruised than unmarked. He could barely move without aggravating some injury and he was dehydrated and underfed, watching as the dull metal walls around him seemed to shrink with each passing hour. If his kidnappers’ goal was to make him look roughed-up, Hux was sure they were succeeding. He didn’t have access to his reflection, but he could imagine what he looked like.

Yaxley and Briggs came in together for the first time, and Hux looked up at them with mild curiosity.  Briggs was holding a holocamera.

“We’re going to send a little message to your friends,” Briggs said, standing over Hux with a smile on his face. “You don’t even have to say anything.”

Hux glared up at him. “They’ll track the message and you will be arrested for kidnapping and treason.”

“Don’t worry about us, Your Highness,” Yaxley said, stepping forward with a rag held in his fist. “Sit up.”

Hux, who had been slouching against the wall in a somewhat pained haze, merely raised an eyebrow at him. The gesture was undoubtedly less effective now, but Hux wanted them to know it would take a lot more to break him than simple beatings.

Yaxley reached down and yanked him up with a fist in his hair. Hux hissed as he was forced into a sitting position that jarred his bruised ribs.

“Now, we don’t want you saying anything off-script, so I’m going to gag you.” Yaxley proffered the rag in his hand, crouching down, and in a quick motion had it tied around the back of Hux’s head. The rag was grimy between his teeth and it took a large quantity of Hux’s concentration not to imagine where the nasty piece of cloth had been.

“Alright, Yax, you know the script.” Briggs waited until Yaxley was positioned in a crouch next to Hux, gripping the hair in the back of his head to make sure he was where Yaxley wanted him, before turning the holocamera on.

“Kylo Ren,” Yaxley began, and Hux’s pulse sped.

When Hux and Ren had started to develop their plan for ending Snoke, they had devised a very simple way of communication without speech or the Force. It was comprised of short and long tones like the code language of Dadita, but they had altered it so that they were the only ones who knew it. Hux stared at the lens of the ‘camera and started blinking out a message.

_Trap. This is a trap._

“We have something you want, and the only way you’re going to get it back is if you come get it yourself.” He tugged on the hair in his fist and Hux couldn’t hold back a wince. “I’m sure you’ve been trying to find your emperor with the Force, but you should know you’re not the only one out there that knows how to use it. Come to the coordinates this message was sent from in two standard days’ time or Emperor Hux will experience a painful death.”

Was it possible that either Yaxley or Briggs were Force-sensitive? Hux was as Force-sensitive as a duracrete wall, so there was no way he would be able to tell.

Briggs clicked the holocamera off. “And that’s a wrap, folks.” His grin was full of teeth. “We’ll send that on over to Kylo’s personal comm and see what happens. This is going to be _fun._ ”

Yaxley untied the gag from Hux’s mouth, not worrying about snagging a few hairs along the way.

“You’re going to die,” Hux promised, rubbing the back of his head. “I can promise you, if Lord Ren finds you, he is going to kill you without worrying about the justice system.”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Briggs said. “Anyways, I’ve got a sandwich waiting for me, and I’m sure you and Yaxley have some last-minute work to do before we get to our final destination.”

The metal door clanged shut.

“So, is it you or your dimwitted friend that has a connection to the Force?” Hux asked.

Yaxley kicked him in the stomach and he doubled over on the hard, cold floor.

Hux hoped that Ren tore them limb from limb.

 

Hux felt it immediately when the hum of the engines shifted to a lower frequency and he pushed himself into a sitting position against the wall. He hoped it meant all of this would come to an end, whether it be by his death or theirs. His wounds were beginning to bother him, and he was starting to worry about infection and what he thought were broken ribs and bones of his left wrist and shins. He wasn’t sure if there were breaks in other places, but those were the most obvious among the overall aching of his whole body. He longed for the end of this tedious ordeal.

The door clanged open. “Well, your majesty, it’s time!” Briggs said with a huge smile. It was the smile of a person who had no idea their death was imminent.

Yaxley followed him, handcuffs clutched in one meaty hand.

The ship lurched, and Hux’s back slammed against the wall, the pain causing spots to dance across his vision.

Someone was screaming.

Hux squinted up from where he had fallen across the floor and saw that Yaxley was clutching his head in pain.

Hux had seen that before, when Snoke was enacting punishment on those who had failed him, or when Ren was angry or doing Hux’s bidding. This was nothing but blunt pain fed straight into the mind through the Force.

“Yax, what’s going on?” Briggs yelled, eyes wild.

Alarms were going off, and there was shouting from outside the cell.

Briggs’ eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to bolt, but his friend was doubling over and the ship under them was unstable.

“Shit, Briggs, he’s in my head,” Yaxley whined. “He’s stronger than he used to be, when I felt him before. We miscalculated.”

Briggs stalked forward. “We’re getting out of here, and we’re taking you with us. Yaxley, grab our prisoner.”

Yaxley was still obviously in pain, but he did as he was told, hauling Hux up by a hand under his arm and throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman carry. The pain that shot through Hux’s ribs at that prevented him from fighting it, as humiliated as he felt.

The angle looking down at the back of Yaxley’s calves made it difficult to observe the rest of the ship he was taken through, but he noticed that it was a freighter, old and unpolished and probably illegally owned. There were a handful of crew members scuttling about, looking harried as their ship took fire.

The ship lurched again, and Yaxley nearly had them careening into a wall before finding his footing.

_Hux, I’m here. I’m getting you out of here._

Hux nearly jolted from the sound of Ren’s voice so clear in his head. Hux could count the number of times Ren had contacted him through the Force on one hand.

“Reonne, report!” Briggs shouted.

Hux could make out a pair of heavy work boots coming to attention in front of Briggs. “Sir, they’ve got a tractor beam on us,” she responded.

“Damn it. Prepare the escape pod.”

“Yes, sir.” The crewmate scurried off.

“Come on, we need to get to the surface of the planet before—”

There was the sound of wrenching metal and the ship gave one more terrible lurch before the engines went out and they were surrounded by echoing silence.

“Shit,” Yaxley said.

A shower of sparks cascaded down with a loud pop and screech of metal buckling right over Yaxley’s head, and he reeled back, losing his footing and sending them both to the ground. Hux hit the metal hatched flooring with a flare of pain so bright it momentarily drowned out the chaos around him. Hux blinked open his eyes to see Yaxley cowering close to where Briggs was standing, and they both were staring in horror at something down the passageway.

“Portun Yaxley, I know your mind and in it I sense weakness.” The voice was strong and deep, and Hux knew it in his very soul. He worked against the sharp pain to maneuver himself so he could watch as Ren’s cloaked figure approached Hux’s kidnappers, the red glow of his lightsaber throwing harsh shadows on the walls and across the terrified faces of Briggs and Yaxley. His expression was wild, illuminated in red and filled with fury that Hux had not seen there since the days of Snoke. He looked like an avenging angel come to save Hux from this hellhole.

“You may be Force-sensitive, but you are weak. You underestimated my power and so have written your own death sentence.”

The terrible scream that Yaxley released echoed across the metal walls. He was bent over, hand bracing on the bulkhead in an attempt to remain standing. Hux watched with mild interest from his spot on the floor as Briggs pulled a blaster on Ren. A loud cracking sound resounded and Briggs howled, dropping the blaster and clutching his hand.

“Neither of you understood the consequences of kidnapping the emperor, and for that, you will _suffer._ ”

Hux was interested in seeing Ren tear them limb from limb, but he was beginning to feel dizzy and his vision was wavering. He was aching all over, but there was a strange pulsing pain in his right side, where he had hit the ground. He pressed his hand against the spot and it came away coated in blood. That was unfortunate.

His eyes fluttered shut, and in his last shred of consciousness, he could hear the sound of screaming and the _whoosh_ of a lightsaber.

 

“Hux! Hux, please.”

Everything ached. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, and he wanted to go back into the peaceful dark place he had been in before all of this pain.

“Hux.”

Someone squeezed his hand.

“Hell,” he croaked, blinking his eyes open to bright lights and someone leaning over his prone form. “Ren?”

“Hux, damn you, I thought you were going to die.”

Remembering why he had passed out in the first place, Hux touched the spot on his side where he had been bleeding, and his fingers pressed against smooth skin under tattered fabric.

“I healed your largest injuries. You had two broken ribs, a broken shin bone, a broken wrist, and internal bleeding. Everything I didn’t get to can be fixed with a regenerator.”

Ren was still leaning over him on the small cot, hands placed on either side of Hux’s head as he stared down with wide brown eyes. A weaker man would have squirmed under the scrutiny. Hux knew he looked terrible, but Ren had seen him at his worst and was still loyal after everything.

Hux could not believe how good it was to see Ren’s face after his time in captivity. They were on Ren’s personal ship, Hux could tell now. He could see the customized control panels and the general disarray that was common of anything owned by Ren.

“Ren. Thank you.”

“It’s my fault you got captured in the first place.” His voice was rasping from the effort of healing Hux, and his eyes were bright.

Hux shook his head, unable to find the right words to argue with him.

“Are you alright? I’ve never performed such a large scale healing on you before and there are side effects I’m sure—”

“Shut up.”

Hux reached up and fisted a hand in the collar of Ren’s tunic, pulling him close enough that their noses brushed. Ren’s eyes darkened, fixated on Hux’s mouth.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Ren breathed, and then his mouth was hot and plush against Hux’s.

The kiss was soft and warm; it matched neither of their personalities, but it was what they both needed at the moment. Hux knew if he had been standing, he’d be weak at the knees from it. Ren cupped a large hand on the side of Hux’s jaw, tilting his head and deepening the kiss and Hux tangled his hand in dark hair. Just like he was in everything else, Ren was overwhelming in this.

They were both panting by the time Ren pulled back. “Hux.”

Ren’s eyes were dark enough to hold galaxies and they were fixed intently on him. Hux moved his hand from Ren’s hair to slide along the side of his face, tracing a thumb over his cheekbone and down to brush over his bowed lips.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Hux breathed.

Ren pressed his nose under the hinge of Hux’s jaw. “Your captors are dead.”

Hux let his eyes drift closed. “I figured they would not survive long after you found me.”

Ren slid a hand into Hux’s hair which had become ragged in the weeks that he had been in confinement.

“You are still weak. I suggest you sleep, and when you wake I will fill you in on everything you missed.” He kissed Hux on the corner of his mouth, a touch that was gentle and ached deep within Hux’s chest.

Hux shook his head as Ren pulled back. “No, tell me now, what happened after I was taken from Apatros?”

Ren’s mouth twitched downward. “Phasma dealt with the chaotic aftermath, and the rest of the galaxy we kept in the dark. The Core thought you were still touring, and the Outer Rim thought you had gone back to the Core. Any longer and they would have begun to question, but you will return to your throne like nothing happened.”

“Tell me, what became of your lead?”

Ren shook his head, and Hux could sense the anger simmering under the surface. “A dead end, like you said it would be. There was a faction of old Resistance sympathizers located there, and they were broadcasting Organa’s birthdate as a way to call out to other sympathizers. We took them out quickly and then made sure the rest of the planet was clear of dissenters. It took at least two weeks for the message of your kidnapping to get to us, and even then I couldn’t locate you.” Ren’s eyebrows pulled together. “You were absent from the Force. I thought you were dead, at first.”

The distraught look on Ren’s face put to rest any doubts Hux had been having about Ren’s loyalty. They hadn’t been able to locate Hux. Hux thought back to when Ren wanted nothing more than to find Luke Skywalker but had been unable to. The blow of not being able to find Hux, of having failed to keep him safe, had most likely driven Ren mad.

“How powerful was Yaxley in the Force?”

“He had little power, but it was enough to mask your presence from across the galaxy. Actually holding out against me when we were face to face was impossible. I easily crushed his mind.”

“How long was I gone?”

“Three weeks.”

Hux closed his eyes and held back a groan. “Three weeks wasted on those goons. How horrifying.”

“It will not happen again. I will not be so foolish in the future.” He brushed a hand through Hux’s hair, lingering over his ear. “Rest. We will be back to Coruscant in twelve hours.”

Hux gave in to his exhaustion, safe in the knowledge that Ren would be close by as he slept.

 

Hux rarely indulged in water showers, feeling that they were a waste when a sonic shower was just as, if not more, efficient in cleaning. But the hot blast of the water over his skin felt better than he wanted to admit, and he blessed the systems that supplied him with as much hot water as he wanted.

He toweled off in front of the mirror and then set at his scruff with his razor. He didn’t trust anyone else with sharp objects around his throat, and at this moment he found the act centering, allowing him to shed the fear and frustration that had been a part of him for the weeks of his captivity. When he was done, he combed his hair back into place and admired his reflection.

There was a small bit of bruising under his left eye that the regenerator hadn’t caught. It was nothing a little dab of makeup wouldn’t cover, but it was a small reminder of what he had been through, and he disliked it.

He pulled on a pair of loose leggings and his robe, determined to get some work done before he called it a night. The following day was a mess of meetings and speeches that had piled up in his time gone, and he wanted to be prepared.

Walking into his bedroom and seeing Ren sitting in the armchair with Hux’s datapad, he knew getting work done just became much more difficult. Ren looked up at him when he heard Hux enter.

“You got rid of the beard.”

“Of course I did. It looked horrendous.”

Ren deposited the datapad on the side table and stood.

“I’ve told you not to go through my things,” Hux said and stood still as Ren advanced. “And yet you continue to hack into my personal files.

“If you truly cared about that, you’d increase your security.” He moved until he was close enough that Hux had to tilt his chin up to look into Ren’s face.

They hadn’t talked about the kiss on the ship; there had been too much to worry about since then, but now that Hux was feeling better and Kylo was here, he couldn’t help how his gaze strayed to Ren’s mouth, remembering what it felt like against his own.

“Are you sure you want to work on paperwork all evening?” Ren asked, voice low.

“I should. I’ve been gone for three weeks.” His eyes flickered back up to meet Ren’s. His next words were much softer. “The galaxy doesn’t run itself.”

“It will survive one night longer without its selfless leader.”

Hux breathed out a chuckle. “Selfless. I would think you didn’t know me at all, Ren.”

A smile curved on Ren’s lips. “I know you more than anyone else does, dear Hux, and if you are agreeable, I would like to know you even better.”

Hux released a small breath of air. This was too much. He was only human, and Ren wanted him. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t also want Ren, hadn’t wanted him from that moment Ren hugged him among the rubble of Snoke’s citadel.

Hux hooked an arm around the back of Ren’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Perhaps we can discover more ways my knight can service me.”

Ren’s mouth was against him in the next moment, demanding and full of teeth. Hux clung as Ren wrapped an arm around his lower back and pulled him in tight so their bodies were flush from chest to knees. His other hand tightened in the short hairs at the base of Hux’s skull, tugging just enough that Hux gasped against Ren’s mouth. His large palm was a possessive brand at the small of Hux’s back.

“Come on, there’s a comfortable bed right there.” Hux shoved at Ren who allowed Hux to push him backward. When his knees hit, he pulled Hux down so they both sprawled backward on the large mattress.

Hux tugged at Ren’s shirt and Ren lifted his arms without prompting, allowing Hux to pull it off and expose what seemed like miles of pale skin.

He pressed his mouth to Ren’s collarbone and felt as Ren arched beneath him, letting out a hiss of air. “Touchy, are we?” He cupped his hands around Ren’s broad ribs. His skin was hot and smooth against Hux’s palms, and it made him want to touch every bit of skin he could get to. He swiped the flat of his tongue across a dusky nipple and Ren whined. When he applied teeth, Ren threw his head back.

Ren’s hands slid into the v of Hux’s robe, tugging, and the loose tie came undone and pulled away from his shoulders. He tossed the robe away from the bed and Hux resisted complaining about wrinkled fabric, especially when Ren’s hands were on his chest, sliding downward, towards his abdomen.

Their mouths met in another sloppy kiss, this one more demanding, and Hux’s world spun as Ren flipped them. He was a heavy weight between the thighs Hux had parted to straddle Ren’s hips. Hux breathed out on a gasp.

“You’re wonderful,” Ren sighed against the side of Hux’s neck. Hux felt teeth there and it made him grab at Ren’s broad back, nails lightly scraping against shoulder blades. Ren ground down, using his forearms as leverage, placed on either side of Hux’s head. Even through the fabric of the pants they were both still wearing, Hux could feel the heat of Ren, and the friction was nearly painful. A few more thrusts and they were both panting hard.

“Ren, take your pants off, please. I want you to fuck me,” Hux said into the damp space between them.

Ren lifted just enough to slide his pants off, reaching down to tug Hux’s off while he was up. His eyes raked up and down Hux’s exposed form, drinking in the sight of him, and Hux allowed himself to do the same to Ren. He was beautiful, spotted with dark freckles and built solidly. A clear image of Ren holding him up against the wall as he fucked him filled Hux’s mind and he had to take a deep breath to keep from losing his mind to arousal. Ren’s mouth opened on a gasp and his eyes widened, and Hux was sure Ren had seen what Hux had seen.

“Lube?” Ren rasped.

“Top drawer in the nightstand.”

Ren reached over and retrieved the bottle. Hux had almost expected him to use the Force to do it.

His thoughts on such matters were quickly chased off by Ren crouching over him with slicked fingers.

With the first press of Ren’s fingers, Hux realized how long it had been since he had done anything like this. Ren was patient with him, though, working his fingers until Hux was panting and arching, fingers clenched in rich sheets. The intent gaze Ren had fixed on him made his face heat and his breath quicken. Ren’s attention was focused entirely on Hux, and it was intoxicating.

“Come on, Ren,” he moaned. “Please.”

Ren’s eyes were pitch black as he watched Hux, and his mouth was slack. Hux hissed when he pulled his fingers away, but Ren quickly moved in closer, lifting one of Hux’s legs over his shoulder as he positioned them.

Ren’s fingers were nothing compared to his dick, an overwhelming filling sensation that had Hux throwing his head back onto the pillows as Ren slowly pushed into him.

“ _Hux,”_ Ren whined, gripping Hux’s waist as he bottomed out.

Hux bared his teeth and tried to keep his eyes open so he could watch the expression on Ren’s face.

“Are you okay?”

“Damn it, Ren, I’m fine. _Move._ ”

Ren started out slow, cautious of hurting Hux, but when Hux kept throwing his weight upward into each thrust and tugged at Ren’s hair, Ren took the hint. He set a punishing pace that made the bed creak and had Hux seeing stars.

Hux’s leg slipped off of Ren’s shoulder, but it allowed him to wrap both his legs tightly around Ren’s middle and pull him close so that they were sharing damp breath. He moved his hands from the sheets and twined them into Ren’s hair, pressing his nose under Ren’s large ear.

When Ren wrapped a hand around Hux’s length, it only took a few tugs for Hux to come in an overwhelming rush. He couldn’t hold back the groan that escaped from his throat, muffled into the side of Ren’s neck.

Ren didn’t take much longer, following him over the edge with two more hard thrusts, and then he was collapsing sideways so he didn’t completely crush Hux under the weight of his body.

For a while, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. They were curled together, their legs tangled and their faces close.

“I need a second shower,” Hux mumbled after they had both caught their breath.

Ren hummed, lifting a hand. Hux watched as a rag from the bathroom landed in his open palm.

“You’re lazy.”

“I don’t see you getting up to get it,” Ren countered with a slight frown as he began wiping up the mess between them.

“I just got fucked out of my mind.”

Ren’s response was a self-satisfied smirk, and the cleaning touch on Hux’s inner thighs lightened when Hux hissed.

“You do know this means you’re never going to get rid of me,” Ren said after a few more moments of comfortable silence.

“As of now, the pros far outweigh any cons of having you around. If it stays that way, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

Ren kissed him once and when he pulled away he didn’t move far. Hux could feel Ren’s breath on his cheekbone. “I am happy to serve you, your Majesty.” His eyes brightened. “Oh, I completely forgot. I found something of yours during the rescue.” This time he did get out of bed, moving back over to the armchair and rummaging in the shoulder bag he had left there. Something glinted in the dull light of the bedroom.

Ren settled back into the bed holding Hux’s crown.

“I thought that was gone,” Hux breathed. He tilted his head up and allowed Ren to settle it across his brow. The weight felt comfortable and familiar, and a smile curled on his face.

“Much better,” Ren said, kissing him soundly. Hux didn’t ever sleep in his crown, but he was too exhausted to do more than fall back against the pillows, curled up with Ren.

Hux fell asleep feeling warmer than he had felt in a long time.

 

Hux stood, crown glinting on his head, fearsome expression on his face as he addressed the crowds of Coruscant stretched along the main city street as far as he could see. Ren was standing off to his side looking as splendid as Hux himself. They were a matching pair; the Emperor and his Knight.

“On this day we celebrate the five year anniversary of the birth of our new galaxy and the start of many more glorious days to come. You have stood behind me as I rebuilt this galaxy from the ground up and have believed in my mission long before you could see the benefits. Now we shall all reap the reward of the seeds we sowed those years ago. Today is the beginning of a new era of prosperity, and we will share it. Thank you, the citizens of this glorious city. Enjoy with me this wonderful future you helped to create.”

The applause was thunderous, and when Hux lifted his chin and glanced sideways at Ren, he found that the look of fierce pride on own his face was mirrored on Ren’s. After all, the galaxy was theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://thevulcanpresident.tumblr.com/)


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